


Kiss

by paperstorm



Series: IRL [10]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 03:24:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6887926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>For half a second it doesn’t register in Michael’s brain that Luke is reaching for his face. Like he’s going to kiss him. Like he’s forgotten they’re in public and they can’t. </i>
</p><p>Based on <a href="http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/post/144469069186/michaelsnapchat-the-cover-up-x">this moment.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss

They’re bowing. The crowd is screaming. Michael never, ever gets tired of this moment. It’s so many things tied up into just a few seconds. Exhilaration. Adrenaline, pulsing so fast through his veins sometimes he isn’t sure how his heart doesn’t just give up and explode right there in his chest. Excitement, over the show they just played. Sadness, because it’s over and Michael loves being up here and he never wants it to be over. Exhaustion that hasn’t quite hit him yet over the thrill, and won’t for an hour or so and then it will crash down on him all at once and he'll feel like he’s dying.  
   
Ashton is tossing drumsticks to the audience. He does that carefully, now, after he hit someone in the face, once. Luke did too, on a different occasion. Now they watch where they’re throwing things. Michael turns to Luke, standing right next to him with his hands in the air, waving to the hollering fans. Luke turns, too, and for half a second it doesn’t register in Michael’s brain that Luke is reaching for his face. Like he’s going to kiss him. Like he’s forgotten they’re in public and they can’t. They don’t, when people other than Calum and Ashton can see. Michael doesn’t know what to do, how to react. Then, he doesn’t need to, because Luke realizes, just at the last second. His eyes widen. He starts clapping awkwardly, right in Michael’s face, like he doesn't know what to do either.  
   
Michael panics. He reaches for Luke’s waist, and then changes his mind and holds around Luke’s ribcage instead, pretending to pick him up. Luke spreads his arms and goes along with it and then they just walk away from each other in opposite directions and don’t even make eye contact. It’s weird and uncomfortable and not natural at all and Michael’s heart is beating so fast as they all exit the stage for the final time and leave the thunder of screams and applause behind them. It was only a few seconds but people will notice. Michael knows they will. They notice everything. In about twenty minutes, videos of it will be everywhere. Michael doesn’t even know how he would go about explaining it away if he was ever asked to do so.  
   
“Awesome show, boys!” Ashton yells.  
   
“Yep,” Luke responds, his voice weak, and Ashton doesn’t notice but Calum is staring at them. Michael isn’t looking at him but he can _feel_ Calum staring through the side of his skull.   
   
“Beer?” Ashton asks, as they all pile into their shared dressing room and shut the door behind them. He looks at each of them in turn, offering. “Cal?”  
   
“Yeah, thanks,” Calum says. Then he turns to Luke. “Um. So, what the fuck?”  
   
“Nothing,” Luke mutters. He takes the bottle Ashton hands him, twists the top off it, and takes a long swig.  
   
Ashton stares at him, holding up a bottle-opener. “Dude, that wasn’t a twist-off.”  
   
Luke looks down at his hand, and it’s bleeding, in the groove between his thumb and his forefinger where the rough metal pierced his skin. “Damn it.”  
   
“Oh my God!” Michael grabs a towel from the bathroom and sits next to Luke, grabbing his hand even though Luke tells him to leave it. He presses the towel over the cuts, and the white cotton turns red.   
   
“It’s fine, Mikey. I didn’t even feel it.”  
   
“Wait, what-the-fuck _what_?” Ashton asks, pulling back the conversation Calum started before Luke accidentally maimed himself.  
   
“Nothing,” Luke says again. He hisses when Michael presses the towel too hard into his hand. “Ow, stop.”  
   
“He was like half a second away from kissing Michael on stage, that’s what,” Calum says. He takes another bottle from Ashton's hand, and the opener, and pops the cap off. It falls to the floor, clinking like loose change. “He leaned in and everything. Did you not see it?”  
   
“I did not,” Luke argues, but the crimson blush that spreads over his cheeks says differently.  
   
Ashton looks back and forth between Luke and Michael, and then giggles. “Oops.”  
   
“I just forgot for a second! It was an instinct. Okay? It won’t happen again.”  
   
“What if you had?” Ashton laughs. “Oh man. No possible way we could spin that. You’d be done for.”  
   
Michael smiles to himself. It could still get them in a bit of trouble, but probably it won’t, and Ashton’s right. It’s funny.   
   
“It’s bad enough that you eye-fuck the shit out of each other all night long, and play each other’s guitars like fuckin’ foreplay, like you might as well whip your dicks out right there and it would be less obvious,” Calum grumbles, but he doesn’t really sound angry.   
   
“No, we don't!” Luke protests.   
   
Michael stays silent. He’s sure Calum is right. He doesn’t really mean to, at least not always, but he has no trouble believing they’re too obvious about it sometimes. He can’t help it. Luke is too hot up there on stage, sweaty and flushed and in his element. The stage-fright they all struggled with in the beginning is gone now; Luke shines like a spotlight when he’s performing. He’s all lit up from the inside, and he’s beautiful, and Michael can’t resist him.  
   
“Michael, tell them,” Luke implores, looking to the one person who he can always count to be on his side, but this time Michael isn’t.  
   
“Sorry, babe. We do.”  
   
Luke rolls his eyes. He frees his bleeding hand from Michael’s grip and stands up, walking a few steps away from them all.   
   
“I found it,” Ashton says. He holds up his phone.  
   
“Wait, already?” Michael cries. He figured it would take someone a _little_ bit longer to get it online. He doesn’t know if he should be impressed or concerned.  
   
Ashton holds up a Twitter video so they can all see. Michael watches, half in amusement and half in horror, as the scene plays out in front of his eyes, even worse than he realized as he was living it. It’s too obvious, the way Luke was reaching for him, and the awkward way they attempted to cover up for it after.  
   
He groans. “Well. That was a disaster.”  
   
Ashton is still grinning, far too smugly for Michael’s liking.   
   
“Sort your life out,” Calum tells them, but he’s grinning now too. “Idiots.”  
   
“Can you fuck off?” Luke glares at them both.   
   
“Yeah.” Ashton thumps Calum on the chest. “C’mon. They need some Luke-and-Michael time, apparently.”  
   
“Apparently, because Luke couldn’t even wait until the show was over,” Calum smirks.   
   
Luke flips him off, and Calum returns the gesture, and then they’re both gone. The door closes behind them and their loud voices trail away down the hall.   
   
Michael looks at Luke. His face is still red. He looks annoyed, but self-conscious too so the annoyance is probably at himself, not their friends. “It doesn’t matter,” Michael tries.  
   
Luke pulls his own phone out of his pocket. He scrolls through it for a moment, and finds the video Ashton had been watching. It’s on an update account, one they all follow, so they can keep tabs sometimes on what people are saying about them. Luke watches it again, groaning when it ends and tossing his phone away onto the table in front of him.  
   
Michael moves in closer to him, leaning over and bumping Luke’s shoulder. “It’s fine.”  
   
“We look like morons.”  
   
“Yep,” Michael agrees. “Cute morons, though.”  
   
“Just morons.” Luke sighs, and tips over a little, his head landing on Michael’s shoulder. Michael wrestles his arm out from under Luke’s body and wraps it around him, so Luke can lean on him. “Sorry,” Luke mumbles. “I could’ve ruined everything.”  
   
“I love you,” Michael tells him. He’s trying not to laugh himself – he shouldn’t find it funny but Luke is embarrassed and it’s cute.  
   
Luke pushes his face into Michael’s neck and says, “I wanted to kiss you.”  
   
“I always wanna kiss you.” Michael does just that – although he can’t get to Luke’s lips so he settles for pressing his mouth to Luke’s messy hair. “It sucks that we can’t always, whenever we want.”  
   
“Yeah.” Luke’s arm slips around Michael’s middle. It’s too hot, curled up like this, with both still sweaty from the show, but Michael doesn’t move away.  
   
“Can now, though,” he points out. He wiggles his shoulder, bumping Luke’s head gently.  
   
Luke smiles against Michael’s neck, and his lips brush against the skin there, and then he lifts his head up and finds Michael’s mouth with his. Their lips move together, and Luke tastes like beer and something sweeter underneath. Michael tugs at him, with handfuls of Luke’s sweat-damp t-shirt, and Luke crawls into his lap, rocking against him as they kiss. Michael pushes his hands down the back of Luke’s jeans to squeeze his ass and pull him closer.   
   
“Cal and Ash could come back at any second,” Luke says. The words are slurred, wet against Michael’s lips, and his hands are in Michael’s hair, and his body doesn’t match his words.   
   
“Don’t care,” Michael says, and like it’s the permission Luke was waiting for, he drags his hand down Michael’s chest to his waist, to lower, and cups him through his jeans.   
   
Michael swears and pushes his hips up into Luke’s hand. He’s hard already, it presses against the zipper of his tight jeans, and Luke smiles and teases him as they kiss. Luke moans into Michael’s mouth, and it vibrates through his chest.  
   
“Are you turned on by the thought that if someone walked in right now, they’d find us like this? You with your hand on my dick?”  
   
“Yeah,” Luke moans again. He flicks the button on Michael’s pants and shoves his hand inside, curling his long fingers around Michael’s erection and stroking.   
   
Michael chews at his bottom lip and reaches for Luke too, pulling him closer by a belt loop and then getting his jeans down far enough to touch him. “You actually wanted to kiss me earlier, didn’t you?” Michael asks, daring Luke to admit it. “You didn’t just forget we were in public. You wanted to kiss me with everyone watching. Then you backed out at the last second.”  
   
“Shut up.”  
   
Michael drags his fist up Luke’s cock slowly, squeezing and twisting his wrist, rubbing his thumb over the slit where Luke is leaking and it’s gone all slippery. “Say it.”  
   
“Fine,” Luke growls. He ducks down and bites at the muscle where Michael’s neck meets his shoulder. Michael gasps and his head falls to the side, making room for Luke to lick the sting away with his warm tongue. “Fine, yeah, I did. I always want that. All those girls screaming your name. I wanna grab you and kiss you in front of fifteen thousand people so they all know you’re _mine_.”  
   
“I’m yours anyway,” Michael promises. “Even if no one knows.”  
   
“Good.” Luke finds his lips again. He whines when Michael keeps twisting his wrist, and his hips buck forward, pumping himself into Michael’s fist.  
   
“You should fuck me right before the show tomorrow,” Michael rasps. Luke’s fingers are so perfect wrapped around his cock, pressure and warmth, and he wants to come quick and rough like a punch so they don't get caught and then head for the hotel and spend the rest of the night drawing three or four more out of Luke until they can’t move anymore.  
   
“Yeah?” Luke’s voice is thick and shaky – he’s close.   
   
Michael ups the ante and murmurs right into Luke’s ear. “You should come in me, and then I’ll get dressed while it’s still in there. Play the whole show like that, with it dripping out. I get so sweaty, no one else would notice the stain from all the other ones. But you will.”  
   
“Michael, fuck,” Luke groans. His head falls down, forehead hitting Michael’s shoulder.   
   
“Like wearing a sign that says I-belong-to-Luke-Hemmings, only dirty.”  
   
“I wouldn’t – mm …” Luke trails off momentarily on a particularly long moan. “I’d forget all the words. Fuck up my solos. Just be thinkin’ about it.”  
   
“You could lick it out, after,” Michael breathes, his hand moving like lightening over Luke’s cock, and Luke grunts and tenses and spills over Michael’s fingers.   
   
He swears on a sigh and starts back up on Michael; chest heaving and his face pressed into Michael’s neck again as he strokes, and Michael sees stars when he comes, his loud cry of pleasure muffled by Luke’s shoulder.  
   
“Yeah,” Luke says, a moment later. He sounds exhausted. “I wanna do that.”  
   
“Okay.” Michael threads his fingers together over the small of Luke’s back, keeping him tucked up close.   
   
The door opens, the hinges creaking, and Michael freezes – his heart leaping into his throat.  
   
“Oh my _God_ ," Calum’s voice exclaims, way too loud, and Luke flinches but neither of them move to cover themselves or hide what they clearly were just doing. There’s no point, Calum’s already seen.  
   
“Hi, Cal,” Michael says, aiming for calm.  
   
“That’s it, I’m done, I’m quitting the band!” Calum yells dramatically, storming away and letting the door swing shut behind him.  
   
“No, he won’t,” Michael chuckles.  
   
Luke makes a noise that’s halfway between a laugh and an unhappy whine, and Michael tightens his arms around Luke’s back.  
   
“At least now someone knows I’m yours.”  
   
“Calum already knew,” Luke points out. “Also this is so not what I meant when I said that. Also, shut up.”  
   
Michael smiles, and kisses the corner of Luke’s mouth. “You love me.”  
   
“Tragically, yes,” Luke admits, but he smiles too, and then kisses Michael properly. “Yes, I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on tumblr if you want!](http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/)


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